London Bridge
by woodbyne
Summary: "When I said I wanted a special relationship, I didn't mean Friends With Benefits. . ." Rated for sexual themes and language. England wants to get serious. USUK fluff. How come every time you come around my London, London Bridge you wanna go down?


**Dear USUK fan; this is me cock-blocking you. I'm not sure why I feel the need to do this, but enjoy the fluff. **

_How come every time you come around  
>My London, London Bridge you wanna go down?<br>Like London, London, London we're doing down._

This has been going on for months now. Ever since we started going out, actually. We went out to a nice restaurant, ate good food and then, as though we were operating on some kind of unspoken contract, we got a hotel room and we fucked each other's brains out. Our pattern hasn't changed much. We still use the same seedy hotel, run by a very nice Asian man.

"Mr Arthur! Mr Alfred! Your room is ready!" So Lin called happily the second we walked in the door. Our room is always ready. We've been spending so much time here lately that if it wasn't for the British consulate, I would call it my home away from home.

That night, I wanted to change the pattern.

I spent too much time wrapped up in my head and planning because before I knew it, we were through the door and he was kissing me. He was shrugging off his jacket and shirt and he hadn't even closed the door yet. I wasn't ready for this.

It wasn't that I didn't want to have sex with him. Far from it, I wanted to pound him violently into the mattress (failing that, the nearest surface. Neither of us were fussy about whether or not it was flat), and expected the same in return. And that was exactly the problem. Once things got frisky, I couldn't stop myself; I couldn't string an intelligible sentence together if my life depended on it. Actually, if it came down to that eventuality, I would die a happy man. But I digress.

I needed to stop this before it got too far.

He was nibbling on my neck now, his teeth scraping at my skin, sending tiny electric shivers through my nerves. Lips moved against my skin and it took me a second to put aside the sensation and realise that he was talking to me.

"Pardon?" Manners never cost a penny. But Alfred uses dollars now, so it stands to a reason that that lesson would go the way of the currency.

"Batter up, Artie," he repeated huskily. Ah. His endearingly twee way of saying that he wanted me to take it up the arse this time. A quicktime reel of recent occasions on which I had caught flashed through my mind. Even the faded memory of being filled set my loins ablaze and the erection I had been determined not to let get the better of me was suddenly pressing against the over starched fabric of my pants and trousers (you see if that isn't the last time I let Alfred do the laundry.)

My mutinous body wasn't co-operating with my head, and I too was shucking my clothing; racing to see who could get naked first. But naked wasn't what I wanted now. No. I needed us both at least partially clothed if this discussion was going to go anywhere but down.

"Al, wait," I breathed as he kissed a path down my shoulder, "Alfred, stop it." He drug his teeth over my nipple and I inhaled sharply. Resistance may be futile, but I always did enjoy a lost cause, "America, stop!"

He completely ignored me, too focused on my chest. It isn't that he's stupid or thoughtless, it's just that he has a very one-track mind.

So, I did the natural thing; I grabbed a rather fetching piece of property which I believe is known as the Florida Everglades. Not in the manner one would generally seize a lover's testicles, because if I had then he might have thought that I was simply trying a little hanky-panky and let me get on with it. This was a lot rougher than I would usually be with anyone, but it got my point across. Alfred sat up dead straight, his mouth flying from my skin, leaving it cold in his wake.

"Jesus! Christ! Arthur! What the holy fuck are you doing?" he yelled, eyes wide in fear and surprise. I took a second to enjoy that look on his face. It isn't often that I get to see it.

"Now that I have your attention, can we talk?"

"Can you let my boys go?" he asked, a squeak edging his breathless voice. I nodded and released him, patting the head of his cock fondly through his jeans, making the same motion on the coverlet besides me as I sat down. Alfred sat down uneasily besides me, watching me warily as I considered how best to phrase this (though I had gone over it a million times in my mind, now that the moment was here, none of the words I had practised seemed right.)

"Alfred, these last few months with you have been incredible. I honestly cannot remember ever having better sex with anyone. You are an amazing lover, but-"

"You're breaking up with me?" he asked, his face part disgust and part disbelief. I scrambled to correct him.

"Dear Lord, no, Alfred -"

"You couldn't have done it earlier? Or did you think we'd have a goodbye 'shag'?" he snarled, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Will you-"

"Sorry, England; no can do. Once it's over, it's over. I can't believe that you would do this! I thought we had something go-"

"_United States of_ _AMERICA_!" I yelled, somehow both of us were on our feet and bellowing, "Will you shut up and _listen_ to me! I am _not_ breaking up with you! I want more!"

If I hadn't still been angry, I would have found the way he deflated comical.

"Wait, what?"

"I'm trying to tell you that I want what we have to be more than just shagging, mind-blowing though it may be. When I told you that I wanted to take our so called 'special relationship' to the next level, I didn't mean friends with benefits."

Alfred flopped back down onto the bed, lying flat on his back, his arms fallen like a rag-doll's above his head. He turned to look at me, anger gone.

"Really? Because, y'know. That's what I want, too. But I thought that you just wanted me for my rolling golden plains," he grinned, running a hand down his chest, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm going to ignore that you just called me shallow," I smiled, ruffling his hair.

We sat for a moment in a peaceable silence before Alfred, dear Alfred said,

"Hey, Artie. Can I go down London Bridge?"

**Mwahahaha. Smut denied. If you want to know where I got the idea from, go watch Hetalia Hell [level 8] on youtube. It will reveal all. London Bridge by Fergie.**

**~RutheLa**


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